Prey and Predator
by Channel D
Summary: Abby is being chased on the Washington Metro subway system by a dangerous man. Can Gibbs and the team get to her in time? Suspense. Five chapters; now complete.
1. Discovery

**Prey and Predator**

**by channelD**

_written_: for a friend, who requested a story of Abby in peril  
_rating_: T  
_genre_: suspense  
_setting_: Washington DC, pre-_Judgment Day_  
_characters_: Abby and the team

- - - - -

_disclaimer_: I own nothing of NCIS nor of the Washington Metro.

- - - - -

**author's note:**This first chapter might be better understood with a map of the Washington, DC Metro subway system, so you might want to find one online and refer to it. Failing that, here's a brief description:

There are five subway lines: red, green, blue, orange, and yellow. They cross each other a lot. The red line is in the shape of a U, bent to the left. Its ends both extend into Maryland. The yellow line starts in DC's northeast quadrant and snakes south. The orange line jogs a bit but runs roughly west to east. The blue line runs parallel to the orange line a good portion of the way and then drops south. The green line, finally, comes down from Maryland, runs parallel to the yellow line a bit, then heads southeast.

There are large stations where the lines cross and one can change lines. The three major ones are: _Gallery Place/Chinatown_ (red, yellow and green lines), _Metro Center_ (blue, orange and red lines), and _L'Enfant Plaza_ (yellow, green, orange and blue lines). To reach the Navy Yard, your closest Metro station would be the aptly-named Navy Yard station, on the lower part of the green line, in Washington's southeast quadrant. It's about 1/2 mile from the station to the Yard. (I've walked it.)

And now, on with the story...

- - - - -

**Chapter 1: Discovery**

There was that face again. She hadn't imagined it.

Cold eyes, cruel lips, unkempt hair. The owner of these undesirable features was, most certainly, looking her way.

Abby turned her head as her pulses raced. _It's probably not him,_ she told her herself. _There are lots of butt-ugly people in the world._

_Yes, but not many who would have a reason to follow me._

He was about 35 feet away, sitting toward the back of the Metro car. When had he gotten on? She thought she'd given him the slip when she'd rushed out of her original train car at L'Enfant Plaza, even though it meant that she was abandoning the direct route to the Navy Yard. She'd grabbed the first train coming through—a west-bound blue line train. After her nerves calmed a bit, she figured she'd change trains somewhere and head back south on the green line to the Navy Yard station. She'd probably been wrong, thinking it was him, after all. What were the odds…?

Nonetheless, there he was again. Sitting too close by. Watching her. Watching, and waiting.

The train pulled into the Metro Center station, another of those where lines crossed. Abby sat casually as a number of people got off, then bolted with the last of them, even pushing some aside, deaf to their protests. Down the dimly-lit platform she ran, silently cursing the wobbly low-heeled "court shoes" she wore. _Why does any sane woman wear these things??_

_Change lines? Double back on this one? Exit the station? What should I do? What should I do??_

_Red line! Toward Shady Grove or Glenmont? _She picked Glenmont, as she had a couple more opportunities to change lines going that direction. If she needed to. Which, please God, she hoped she didn't.

A Glenmont train was just pulling in. Abby raced down the escalator and slipped in the car. _Close, doors! Close! Please!_ The wait seemed agonizing. Finally, the doors did close. The car was crowded, and she couldn't see if the man had somehow followed her and gotten on, too.

The train started up. The air-conditioning was weak, and she started feeling drowsy in the hot, crowded car. At least she had a seat. She glanced up, wondering if there was someone standing who needed the seat more than she did. Ah, there was an older man with a cane. Abby beckoned to him and was glad to give him her seat.

And then she froze.

While the crowded car had prevented her from seeing everyone in it, it had also prevented everyone in it from seeing _her_. Particularly while she was seated. Now, though, standing as she was, a tall woman, and wearing her despised light blue (almost luminescent) "court suit", she was a beacon. A _target_.

_I have to get off!! _Obediently, the train rumbled to a stop as it pulled into a station. Abby fought to get to the door, but too late; the doors were closing. She stuck her arm out to stop them, and women around her screamed. A big man grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her up and back, away from the door. "Missy, do you want to get yourself killed?? Those doors don't necessarily halt!"

Abby only gaped, words not coming. _No! No! That was Gallery Place/Chinatown! The lines don't cross again until Fort Totten—six stops up!_

_Keep calm. Keep calm. That's what they tell agents to do. I guess. It's not like I've ever been to FLETC. But that must be what they tell them. Keep calm. You don't know that he's on this train…_

And then she heard it; that ragged throat-clearing sound he made. She'd heard it time and time again in the courtroom. He must be close, so close…

The next time she heard it, she spun around so fast that she knocked a man's briefcase out of his hand. But while she lamely apologized, her eyes on the crowd and not on the wronged man, she heard the sound again, and her heart pounded.

It wasn't him, though. It was a pimply-faced teenager, reading a text book.

Trying to get her breathing under control, Abby found herself coughing. _No! Stop! Don't draw attention to yourself! Water! Need water!_

As the train rolled into the next station, Judiciary Square, Abby tensed, and hoped that didn't show. The car doors opened and she rammed her way through, without apology. _Judiciary Square! I'm back where I started from, almost, near the courthouse. The difference is that I walked to the Archives/Navy Memorial station so I could take the green line. Should I leave the Metro system now?_

Suddenly, there he was, on the platform, looking for her in the crush of early-rush-hour commuters and the endless tourists. _He saw me get off. He saw me get off. What'll I do??_

She knew she couldn't run as fast as she'd like in these worthless shoes. Running in her stocking feet was not an option, however. At least she _could_ run in the shoes.

Pound, pound, pound along the nubby floor, up the escalator two steps at a time, turn, _Where's the escalator for the trains going the other way? I don't know this station well enough….there!_ No time to look to see if he was following; she'd have to assume he was. Clatter, clatter, racing down the other escalator, sidestepping the few people who weren't obeying the convention of _stand on the right so people can pass on the left._ Jump off the last few steps; wobble but keep her balance and not fall. _Thank heavens._ There was a train at the station; bound for Shady Grove, of course, but she hoped to be off it long before it got to Maryland. _I could get off at Silver Spring and pick the lock to either Tim's or Ziva's apartment, _she thought in mad inspiration. _Dang, no, that's back the other way, toward Glenmont._ She dashed in as the doors-closing chimes sounded, and she was on her way.

This car was nearly empty, oddly enough. No matter, it would likely fill at the next stop (Gallery Place/Chinatown) where the red, green and yellow lines converged. _I've beaten him!!_ she thought triumphantly. _He's not on this train!!_

Then her joy died as a man pulled down the newspaper he held and smiled, chillingly at her.

At the next stop, she bolted once again. He almost caught up to her, and then she remembered she had a built-in weapon at her disposal. She screamed. "Help me! Somebody, help me! He's after me!"

Obligingly, three men built like linebackers jumped in and collared her pursuer, giving her the time she needed to race around a corner and melt into the crowd.

- - - - -

Gibbs' phone rang. He was not happy about the interruption; it had been a long and stressful day. Now it was almost 4, and with luck, he could get home at a decent time tonight. A nice evening with some scotch and a round of sanding on his boat, and he'd be content.

He saw the caller ID'd as Abby. "Yeah, Abbs. How did court go?"

"Gibbs! Gibbs!" He voice was low and frantic, and not in her usually pleasant way. "Gibbs! He's after me, Gibbs! You've gotta save me!!"

"Slow down, Abbs! Who's after you? Where are you?" He was aware that the rest of the team had risen from their chairs and were listening.

"Boyers! Not Boyers the defendant, but Boyers his brother! He was watching me while I testified!!"

"Louis Boyers. Abby, of course he would have been watching you testify. I'm sure everyone in the courtroom was—"

"No, Gibbs; you don't understand! He gave me the evil eye look when I stepped down. And he's been following me on every train, and—"

"You're on the Metro? Which station?" he asked, but she overrode his words with, "Dang! There he is! I've gotta go!!"

"Abby, don't hang up!" Too late. He glared at his geek team member. "McGee! Find out where Abby was calling from!"

"Uh…based on one call, boss?"

Ziva already had her phone out. "Pick up, Abby; pick up…" she murmured, then her eyebrows raised. "Abby! Say the name of the station you're in. Just that. Good. Now leave your phone on!" She reported to the others, "Gallery Place/Chinatown."

"That's a huge station! How will we find her there…assuming she's there when we get there?" asked Tim, his brow creased in worry.

"Look for a lovely young lady in glasses and an unbecoming light blue suit," said Tony.

Gibbs slapped Tony's head. "Grab your gear! No time for chatter." He felt a shiver run the length of his body. Abby didn't panic, not like _this_, without reason. And the odds of finding her in one big station—if she did stay put—weren't great.


	2. Location

_**Chapter 2: Location**_

- - - - -

Leaving the truck parked in an illegal spot outside the Gallery Place/Chinatown Metro station, the team sprang out and raced inside. This was a very large station; the yellow, red and green subway lines all crossed here. Gibbs barked out assignments. "DiNozzo—red line. McGee—green line. David—yellow; with me. Move it!!"

- - - - -

Tony was glad he'd been given the red line. Trying to think like Abby, he felt she'd try to flee on it to Silver Spring. Once there, she could make it to either Ziva's apartment or Tim's, and barricade herself inside. Surely she would know better than to try to get to her own place, and have the guy learn where she lived.

He walked at not-too-fast a pace along the platforms, eyes scanning without moving his head. Did Boyers remember him? Unknown, but Tony would have to assume he did. He didn't want to call a lot of attention to himself just yet…even though his jacket, cap and badge screamed _NCIS_ all over. As long as he acted relatively casual, he figured most people would pay him no heed.

Going east, the next stop on the red line was Judiciary Square…near the courthouse. Abby wouldn't go back there, would she? Unless she had dreamed up some sort of double-triple scheme of _he-thought-I-wouldn't-so-I-will-unless-he-thinks-I'm-thinking_…Tony shuddered and hoped that hadn't occurred to her. Steeling himself, he tried to get into her mind. _Suppose she is on the red line. Judiciary Square doesn't cross any other lines. Would she go west, instead? _There, the next stop was Metro Center, another crossroads of three different Metro lines. More options meant more avenues of escape. That would probably be her choice_._

He picked the westbound platform, and slowed his pace to an amble, taking more careful note of his surroundings.

- - - - -

Ziva and Gibbs had the yellow line. Ziva, whose quick mind nearly always had a good hunch, felt that Abby (if she took the yellow line) would likely head south on it. The next stop south was Archives/Navy Memorial: not only a sentimental place, given her work with NCIS, but if she felt it was necessary, she could probably run into the Navy Memorial Museum and seek shelter there. Not a bad idea; all she needed to do would be to show her work ID, and then people with firearms would protect her, at least until NCIS could get there. At any given moment it seemed like there was a stray captain or admiral wandering in the museum, and certainly several sailors. Yes, she would be safe there. Gibbs agreed.

They walked along the southbound platform twice, and found no trace of Abby. For the third time, Gibbs tried calling Abby on her cell, but it went over to voicemail. He then called Ducky. "Have you heard anything from Abby?"

"_I would have called you if I had, Jethro,"_ said the medical examiner, peering at the computer with his assistant, Jimmy Palmer, at his side. _"Mr. Palmer and I are trying to triangulate the calls you've made to her so far. This program is not one we use with our guests in Autopsy, you know. It's slow-going for us. Why, this reminds me of the time in Moscow when I discovered a bug on the phone in my hotel room. I was enjoying a late dinner with the Princess—"_

"Duck," Gibbs cut him off. "Run the program. Please."

"_Oh, all right. Type it in, will you, Jimmy? I'm so nervous; my hands aren't as steady as they should be…"_

"_If I'm reading this correctly,"_ said Jimmy, _"the phone is still in the same Metro stop area. Where you are, Agent Gibbs."_

"Thanks," said Gibbs. "Let me know if anything else comes up."

"I still think she will go to the museum, Gibbs," said Ziva.

He nodded. "Let's take the train down there, and wait."

- - - - -

The green line was Tim's assignment. If Abby felt reasonably safe, it was her direct shot to the Navy Yard stop—just four stops going south. However, given Abby's panicked phone call to Gibbs, it seemed unlikely that she would be feeling safe anytime soon—not until NCIS had collared Boyers, anyway.

His mind went back to what he remembered of Boyers. The lowlife had come to NCIS HQ to support his criminal brother during his interrogation. Tim had watched the proceedings from outside. Elroy Boyers had been unrepentant about his crimes, but it had been his younger brother Louis who was uncooperative and just plain nasty. He did have a reason to hate cops, having been arrested by them on minor charges several times over the years. But he had been livid when NCIS' evidence trail had been enough to convince a grand jury that a case could be made against Elroy.

Evidence smoothly lined up by Abby's skilled work.

Abby didn't usually have to testify in trials; if she did, she'd be spending half her work week in court. No, it was only when some attorney for the defendant thought they could poke a hole in her methods. Attorneys who faced her once usually never tried again. The Boyerses, however, had engaged a lawyer, a shark as shifty as they came, and so Abby had to go to court.

Tim didn't know yet what had happened at today's session of the trial, although it seemed that Abby must have scored points for the DA's side to have Louis Boyers after her. He stopped and phoned Ducky. "Any word on what happened at the trial?"

"_Nothing, Timothy. Court must be still in session, although it's nearly 5 now and they should wrap for the day shortly. I've been checking the local TV channels. No bombshells, apparently, so there've been no news bulletins."_

"Just enough to infuriate the Boyerses." Tim hung up, and was suddenly aware of the time. It had been nearly an hour since Abby had called Gibbs. So much could happen in that time. If she were _really_ skittish, she could be well on her way to even Baltimore now.

He forced himself to not think of outlandish possibilities. Abby wasn't the type who would flat-out run from danger. She'd be more likely to curl up into a ball and try to hide. So she'd probably still be in the station, somewhere…

He tried phoning her, and got only voice mail. "Abby, this is Tim," he said softly. "Please answer and tell me where you are. We can help you." Leaving his phone on, he stared at it for a few minutes, silently ordering it to come back with a response from her. If she feared making noise, she could at least text a message…but nothing came. Sighing, he continued his walk along the platform.

- - - - -

Abby considered taking off her chafing shoes and throwing them away. The Metro platform surface was of a hard, dark, rubber-like substance, marked by raised circles. It couldn't be _too_ hard on stockinged feet…She slipped off one shoe and tested it. _Ugh_. No, the shoes would stay on.

She'd been looking around for places to hide…but the Metro authorities were a step ahead of her, and had removed nearly everything sufficiently large enough for a person to hide, or sleep, behind. _I guess I have to keep moving…_Gibbs and the team would come, she knew. They would never let her down, any more than she would never let them down. That was comforting. But could she keep away from Boyers until NCIS caught up with her?

Again her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She longed to answer it, but didn't dare do so. Maybe they were just trying to triangulate her, although if she remained in the station, they couldn't very well pinpoint her location. She quietly cursed the technology for not being all that she wanted it to be.

"Abby…"

She didn't recognize the voice. Turning, she saw him. Boyers. Standing, leering, looking confident, about 50 feet away.

Nearby, the elevator door had just opened to allow in an elderly couple. Begging the Lord for forgiveness, silently, she leaped past them and then yanked them in and punched the door closed. "Gotta watch those fast door closures," she smiled cheerfully at the startled couple. "You have a nice day, now," she added as the elevator reached the upper level and the couple scooted out.

Hoping that Boyers would be in pursuit up the stairs or the escalator, Abby remained in the elevator and rode it back down to the platform. Then she raced out. _Which way? Which way? Should I get on a train after all?_ She couldn't remember what she'd told Gibbs she would do…if anything.

She was on the platform for the green line. If only a train would come into the station right now, going south, she could take it down to the Navy Yard and be home free. _Well, aside for the fact that they'd probably put me under guard for awhile, but otherwise…Come on, train; come on!_

The platform was growing ever more crowded as people heading home from work piled on. The crowds might be a blessing; it should be harder for Boyers to find her in them.

Some sense made her glance toward the escalator. _No! _There he was, coming back down already!!_ Hide hide hide hide hide…_

She was at the far end of the platform, where the forward end of the train would stop, instead of being at the crossroads for the other two lines. The only ways out were up to the upper level, or out on a train. If she tried to run toward the crossroads, he would spot her. Even if she tried to _walk_ to the crossroads, her danged light blue suit would be easily seen.

_They must be able to do track maintenance while trains are still running, _she thought with sudden desperate inspiration. She carefully, quickly edged to the very end of the platform, stepped over a little barricade where she was now hard to spot, and, after a quick glance to see that no one was looking, let herself down onto a small walkway. About 100 feet ahead was a piece of platform under construction, where this green line stop would, by next year, be rerouted to. She scurried along the walkway for the platform. There, she lowered herself to the tracks, carefully avoiding the deadly third rail. _If I can walk to the next station, I'll be safe._


	3. Train

_**Chapter 3: Train**_

- - - - -

_There she is!_ Tim spotted Abby, about 150 feet away, down at the far end of the platform. He nearly, literally, jumped for joy. He restrained himself from calling her name, much as he wanted to. If Boyers hadn't spotted her yet, Tim didn't dare tip him off.

_Abby! No!_ This when he saw her climb over the barricade at the end of the platform. Instantly he knew that she would try to walk along the tracks to the next station; an act of desperation. What was the schedule of the trains? He didn't know. How frequently did they run, at this time of day? He didn't know. All he knew, with certainty, was that there wasn't enough time for her to run to the next station before a train came through.

_Maybe she's just going to hide beyond the barricade, and not get on the tracks…_ He hoped that would be the case, but he couldn't count on it. He had to stop her. That was all. He would stop her, and he would protect her from Boyers. It all sounded so simple that way.

The platform was swollen with the rush hour crowd now. Tim pushed his way through, quickly, murmuring apologies when he could. Despite his efforts, it was slow-going and Abby had too much of a head start. By the time he reached the barricade, she was out of sight.

_NOOOO!_ he screamed, silently. She had signed her own death warrant.

A couple of people around him noticed his agitation, and tried to stop him, but he shook them off and scrambled over the barricade. Down the little walkway he ran, and was surprised to find a stretch of newly-under-construction platform: evidently new since his last green line ride a month or so ago. He brushed the thought away, concentrating on Abby. There she was! On the tracks, close to where the new platform ended.

"_ABBY!!"_ he cried now as he ran toward the platform's end. "You've got to get out of there! Come on; I'll give you a hand up!"

- - - - -

Tony had come around the station crossroads from where the red line met the green line. He scanned the crowd, looking for Boyers, running in his mind what he remembered of the man from observing his interrogation. About 5' 9", 185 lbs., 40-45, thinning brown hair, bushy eyebrows, cold gray eyes, unpleasant demeanor. The platform was too crowded to study faces, so he switched to looking for someone who might be acting suspiciously.

Carefully he walked through the crowd, checking out person after person, and becoming rather surprised at just how many suspicious-looking people there were here. This wasn't helping, and no one quite matching what he remembered of Boyers was in sight. No sign of Abby, either. He was about to head back to the red line when a familiar-looking lope caught his eye. _Probie!_ Just in time he saw Tim climb over the barricade at the far end of the platform and vanish.

Without hesitation, Tony ran through the crowds. "Move aside! Federal agent!" he cried, his heart pounding.

- - - - -

"Tim! Oh, my God! _Tim!!"_ Abby sobbed. She stood, shaking, on the tracks; unable to move in her great relief and unrelenting terror.

"Abby, you've gotta get out of there! Now!!" Tim urged.

"But, Tim; Boyers—"

"I'll protect you. The whole team will protect you. We're all here."

"You're all—" Abby hugged herself. At long last, her nightmare was over, and she was safe. "Oh, Tim…"

A roaring filled the tunnel. A train was approaching.

- - - - -

The bright sunlight of the area outside the Archives/Navy Memorial station was like an interrogation lamp in their faces as Gibbs and Ziva exited the Metro station onto Pennsylvania Avenue. A very short walk brought them to the Navy Memorial Plaza, a large circle with fountains, plaques, and the statue of the Lone Sailor, all commemorating the history of the Navy. Crowds of tourists, fresh-faced young sailors, and lingering office workers walked around or sat on benches in the sun or under the trees in the neighboring little park.

A quick, visual check had failed to turn up Abby. "Check these shops," Gibbs directed. "See if anyone's seen her. I'll check the museum."

Ziva nodded, and went to the small cluster of shops on the far side of the circle. She asked the staff in each one about Abby and Boyers, biting back her frustration about not having pictures of either to show. The answers were inconclusive and unhelpful; so many people were in and out of the shops, and so many of them were dark-haired women in glasses. Even the mention of the light blue suit didn't trigger any memories.

For Gibbs, the Naval Heritage Center museum was cool and refreshing after the heat of the Metro station and the great outdoors. Like Ziva, though, he found his queries meant with blank looks. "I'm sorry, sir," said the young woman at the information desk, just inside the front door, sensing his impatience. "I just came on shift 15 minutes ago. There's been no one by that description through here in that time."

Gibbs was only half-listening as he looked out the tall, tinted windows of the museum. He sensed he was making this young woman, who was probably very new on the job, nervous. Not that that concerned him. Abby wouldn't linger here, even if she did come asking for sanctuary, he reasoned. This area was too visible. But the bulk of the museum, with the lecture halls and Heritage Center offices, were located downstairs, he knew. He thanked the young woman and trotted down the stairs.

His NCIS gear caught the eye of a Navy captain, who'd been chatting with an assistant director of the museum. The AD quickly rounded up her staff who were working in the public areas and grilled them, but no one indicated they'd seen anyone resembling Abby's description. "Are you sure?" Gibbs asked the group. "Are you 100 per cent sure? This woman's life is in danger." He scanned the faces, young and old, trying to read them and gauge their honesty. "If any of you are harboring her, promising her protection, I admire you and thank you for it. But I—and all of NCIS—_are_ her protection. We're here for her now."

He let that sink in for a moment, and saw the sympathy on their faces. They weren't sheltering her. They honestly hadn't seen her.

"I hope you find your co-worker safely," said the captain, shaking Gibbs' hand. "Give me your phone number, and I'll call you if she comes in."

Back outside, Gibbs met up with Ziva, who shook her head. Gibbs pulled out his phone. "DiNozzo—anything?"

- - - - -

Tony regretted the delay when his phone rang. Had it been anyone other than Gibbs, he would have ignored the call. "Something's up. McGeek just went into an unauthorized area. I'm following him. I'll call you back." He then regretted not telling Gibbs not to call Tim, and hoped Gibbs would realize that this was not the time for such a call.

A train pulled into the station. Tony stared at it, dumbly, for a moment, and then realized the implications. _There's a train in the station. It'll soon _leave_ the station. "Move it! Sorry! Move it!!"_ he cried, trying desperately to get to the end of the platform. But the push of the crowd trying to get onto the train was too great. He wasn't making any headway.

- - - - -

Tim's heart shot up into his throat. They were out of time. "Abby! Get back against the wall! Into that indentation behind you! Make yourself as flat as possible!!" _God willing, it just might work…_

Her mouth was quivering, and her wide eyes on the lights of the oncoming train. _"Tim…!"_

"_Abby!! Do as I say!!"_ he screamed.

Something in that scream got her moving, terrified as she was. Along the track walls were regular indentations, air shafts and escape routes. She needed to get herself into the nearest one, and make herself flat.

Tim could see what she needed to do, and saw that she wasn't in the right position. She wasn't flat enough. But if only…

He stepped backward on the platform, directly across from her position. _"Tim!!"_ she screamed in anguish; terrified that what she was doing wasn't enough. And she cried, then, sensing it was about to be all over for her.

His attention was on the approaching train, though, so he didn't respond to her. Back he stepped, back back, to the far end, watching the train's lights come closer; judging its speed.

_Chuggachuggachuggachuggachuggachuggachuggachugga…_ The train's sound grew and echoed in the tunnel.

Tim eyed the lights one last time, his heart wild, his mind calculating…_one two three four NOW!!_

He ran forward and, with all his might, flew off the edge of the platform, just feet in front of the train, his body making an arc in the air, coming down on the far side, in the indentation, just enough to push Abby the last bit of the way in. She screeched in surprise, but he held her in place, plastered against the wall just barely, _barely_ fully within the air vent indentation himself as he shielded her. He knew he would likely die, but his dear, dear Abby would survive. He gripped the outer all walls, praying that if he lived, his hands wouldn't get broken.

_Chuggachuggachuggachuggachuggachuggachuggachugga…_ Wind whipped him, his jacket, his pants legs; slapping his skin painfully. His NCIS swoop cap left his head and sailed off. The train sound picked up in pitch and then dropped as the train passed, due to the Doppler effect, which was one of the random, unnecessary bits of knowledge that rushed through his brain at the moment. All his upper consciousness wanted to think about was Abby. Abby. Beautiful Abby. Too wonderful to be allowed to die on the train tracks. Abby. He would do it all for her; all over again.

The train sound faded away, and Tim remembered to breathe. "Oh, Abby," he said, and loosened his white-knuckle grip on the air shaft frame. In his fear, though, he lost his balance and started to fall onto the track.

"_NO!! No, Tim!!"_ Abby screamed. She grabbed him; grabbed his arm. "There's a third rail down there! After all that, this is no time to electrocute yourself!" Her attempt to make it sound funny didn't work; her voice shook too much.

With her help, he got back to his feet. "It's probably sheathed and harmless to us," he said. "In many systems, that's how they're built these days." But he looked a trifle uncertain and alarmed. "Now, let's get out of here."

"I'll give you a hand up. Come on over here."

"Tony!" They turned and saw him beckoning on the platform. Quickly they crossed the tracks and accepted his hand in pulling them up. They all sat on the platform, dazed and emotionally spent.

"I saw it all," said Tony. "Probie, that was either the bravest damn thing I've ever seen, or the most foolhardy thing."

Tim shook his head, and swallowed. He knew it was probably both.

"He saved my life," said Abby stoutly, giving Tim a hug.

"Yep. Bravest damn thing," said Tony, grinning slightly, and putting his arms around both of them. "Let me call Gibbs and tell him you're safe."

"You've caught Boyers?" asked Abby.

"Not yet."

"Then I'm not safe."

Tim held Abby close. All he could think was, _One rescue at a time. Boyers isn't going to take you away from us, even if I have to jump in front of another train._


	4. Predator

_**Chapter 4: Predator**_

- - - - -

"We can't stay here," said Tony, as Tim and Abby sat on the platform-under-construction, trying to regain their breath. "Come on; let's get back to the open part of the station. I don't want track officials to catch us, because then Gibbs will have to bail us out of jail. You know how he gets: that look of Why-am-I-doing-this-again?' Like he's _not_ going to bail you out, but rather leave you there overnight?"

Tim stopped sucking in air and eyed Tony for a moment, then shook his head. "I'd ask, but I don't think I want to know."

Tony thought. "You probably don't…Well, it's back the way we came, I guess." He led them back toward the open platform.

- - - - -

They eased back onto the station platform, casually stepping back over the barricade, a minute or so apart. "My rule #57," said Tony. " 'Don't unnecessarily call attention to yourself.' " They stood near a trash basket, defensively hemming Abby in against the wall. Then Tony called Gibbs, who told them to stay put. Several people in Metro shirts and orange reflective vests along with Metro police entered the station and headed for the barricaded end of the platform. Abby started to whistle nonchalantly, but Tim and Tony shushed her. "That only works in the movies," said Tony.

Gibbs and Ziva took about 15 minutes to catch up to them. While allowing Abby to cling to him with a death grip, Gibbs said, "Something's got the Metro people stirred up like angry wasps. I heard one of them say a train operator reported seeing someone _jump in front of a train_ at this station_. _That's why there are so many Metro workers here. They're looking for a body." He watched passengers start to fill up the platform, as trains had been halted in both directions. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Tim exhaled, and Tony only said, "It was probably a mirage."

"Boyers is still loose in here, Gibbs!" Abby interjected. "What are you going to do, Gibbs? You've gotta do _something!_

"First thing we're going to do," said Gibbs, "is get you back to NCIS. And not by Metro. We'll put you in Protection until Boyers is rounded up. Abbs—did he say anything threatening to you?"

"Well…"

"Implied or not?"

"Um…"

"Were there witnesses who saw him pursuing you?"

"Probably about 3,000, since it's rush hour. Did I stop to get names and phone numbers? No, Gibbs, I did not!" Abby snapped.

He waved her to silence. "I'm just trying to understand where we are. Abbs, when we do pick up Boyers, the DA is going to need something firm to charge him with—otherwise, he'll be let go, and will be madder at you than ever. Now, _think_. Is there anyone we can find who saw you in trouble?"

She lowered her head and thought. She had run past so many people, looking only ahead, looking only for an escape route…_Click_. "There was a man; a District cop. He was standing near the elevator."

"Which station?"

"This one. I've seen him there before. It must be like, his regular beat. Sometimes he's there with a K-9; sometimes not. Not today. Anyway, I think he saw me yank a slow-moving elderly couple into the elevator with me—"

"Abby!"

"I know; I know! I've already asked God's forgiveness. Anyway, that was right after Boyers saw me and called out to me. I totally freaked. I must have looked like it."

"Did Boyers approach you?"

"He tried! I got the elevator door closed in time, and I saw him run up the stairs. But after the couple got out, I took the elevator back down. Fooled him! Momentarily."

"Did you yank the old couple _out_ of the car?" Tony asked, and accepted the head-slap from Gibbs.

"But the cop saw all of this?" Gibbs persisted.

"Some of it. I think," said Abby. "Do you think he'd charge me with unlawful steering of aged persons into an elevator car?"

Gibbs smirked and didn't answer for a moment. "Well…McGee, you take Abby back to NCIS in a cab. David, DiNozzo; you're with me. We'll find that cop and then—"

"Gibbs!" Abby protested. "You don't even know which cop it is! He may not even be standing there, still! You'll need me to point him out."

"I need _you_ to stay _safe_," Gibbs corrected. Then seeing her stubborn look, he sighed. "Oh, come on, then. But _stay with us, _Abby_._"

"Stay with my favorite people?! Of course, Gibbs!" She danced a little, then cursed her shoes. "Um, you brought the truck? Do you have any spare women's shoes in there? Size—"

"Abby, let's go," Ziva laughed, taking her arm.

- - - - -

It wasn't the same cop. "Where is he?" Abby asked the other cop on duty, in disbelief. "The guy who's usually here?"

"Bigalow? He's off with the Metros," said the cop by the elevator. "There's, uh, a problem in the tunnel."

"We heard," said Gibbs.

"But nobody got hu—" Abby started to blurt, before Tim grabbed her arm and Tony put a hand over her mouth.

"No one got hurt?" Ziva asked, puzzledly. "How do you know that?"

Gibbs' attention was diverted by the cop. Ziva caught a warning look from Tony, and looked between Tim and Abby worriedly.

"They're going to call your cop to come out and make a statement for us as soon as he can," Gibbs reported back. "It may be a few moments. Might as well get comfortable."

Not an easy thing to do. There were no benches in this stretch of the platform, and the crowds were increasing. It was only about 10 minutes, though, before Abby's cop appeared. No body had been found in the tunnel, he said readily when asked; the authorities would be performing drug tests on the Metro car driver. "I thought I'd heard it all," Bigalow laughed, "but I'd never heard a driver say someone jumped in front of their train in a stretch of tunnel!"

"Did he give a description of the jumper?" asked Gibbs.

"Believed it was a man, tall, in a dark or black jacket," said Bigalow.

"Could be almost anyone," said Abby, trying not to look at the black NCIS jackets around her.

Under questioning, Bigalow acknowledged that he had seen Abby looking scared, and had noticed a man with what he thought was an unhealthy interest in her. He had seen her jump into the elevator, and had seen the man run up the stairs. Bigalow had been about to reach for his radio to call in when Abby had come back out of the elevator and had melted into the crowd.

Letting Bigalow get back to work, Gibbs said, "If Boyers has seen us, then he's long gone from here. DiNozzo, call in—"

"BOLO. On it, boss."

"McGee, as I said before, you get Abby back to NCIS in a taxi. I'll call Vance; a security detail will be in place for her shortly. Until then, you're it."

"Got it, boss."

"David, DiNozzo—let's do one last sweep of the station for Boyers before we head back."

- - - - -

Tim took Abby's arm as they moved through the crowd, knowing full well that Gibbs really would kill him if he and Abby became separated. Abby smiled a little at the touch, but he didn't seem to have her full attention.

"Still worried about Boyers?" Tim asked. "You shouldn't be. We'll pick him up shortly. Then this will be all over."

She wasn't even looking at him. "Do you believe in a sixth sense, Tim?"

"No. It's one of those things that sounds cool, but scientifically—"

"Because I think Boyers is still here. I can feel him."

"You're just worked up. You've had a nightmarish afternoon."

"No, Tim; I mean it! He's close by."

"Then all the more reason why we should get out of here." It was still a good walk to the nearest exit. Tim silently regretted not going up in the elevator that had been near the cop, but at the time he hadn't wanted to make Abby re-experience that ride. Moving through the crowds was like swimming against the current.

At least now a train was approaching the station. That would take away some of the crowd…but no, when the train came in, it was packed already. Precious few people got off at the station, and only a small number of passengers could squeeze into the vacated places. Those who weren't able to get on sighed and cursed. It would be a long commute.

The train pulled out, and another one was right behind it. Although this second train was just as full as the first one, again the crowd on the platform pushed to get on. Tim and Abby found themselves pulled away from their attempt to reach an exit, and instead drifting towards the crossroads where one could change for the yellow Metro line. "It's okay," Tim said to Abby. "We can just as easily reach an outside exit here."

"Abby…"

Abby shrieked and jumped. _"Boyers!"_ He was only feet away.


	5. Safety?

_**Chapter 5: Safety?**_

- - - - -

_Boyers!_

"I knew I'd catch up with you, Abby," he leered. "I'm faster than you. You couldn't outrun me forever."

Abby tried to speak, but nothing came out.

Tim marveled that Boyers didn't seem to notice him. Then he remembered that his NCIS swoop cap was gone, and other than the badge, his jacket didn't say "NCIS" on the front. "Hold it, Boyers," Tim said. "Federal agent!" There were times when drawing a gun was not advised, if it could at all be avoided, and this—in a crowded station—was one of them. Tim kept his sig holstered.

Looking then a trifle uncertain, Boyers took a step back. "I just want to talk to you, Abby," he said. "Why have you been running? I just need to show you how wrong you were about my brother."

"The evidence is not wrong," Abby said firmly.

"But I think you misinterpreted it, Abby. If you take another look at it, and come back to court and amend your testimony, I'm sure everyone will see that my brother is innocent."

"Look, where do you get off calling me by my first name? We've never even met!" she snapped.

"I'm sorry, Abby," he said with a tentative smile. "I'm in retail, you know. I always call people by their first names. It's friendlier; it puts them at ease."

Abby hesitated, and Tim noticed that. Could they have been wrong about Boyers all this time? Maybe he was just who he said he was: a concerned brother who was making a clumsy attempt to secure justice as he saw it.

Boyers stepped closer. It was okay; they could all just talk. Tim started to reach for his cell phone to call Gibbs to tell him that they had met up with Boyers, and it was all a big mistake. Then he thought the action might alarm Boyers, who might think he was reaching for his gun. _The call to Gibbs can wait…_

"Yes, that's better," Boyers said, and cleared his throat.

It was a raggedy sound, one that had set Abby's nerves on edge in the courtroom. Now she was sympathetic. The poor man couldn't help such things. Feeling contrite, she almost reached out to him.

And quick as lightning, he seized her, and wrenched her away from Tim's side.

"Let her go, Boyers!" Tim yelled over Abby's screams. He grabbed the two of them, stopping Boyers' escape. With a chop to Boyers' wrist, Tim was able to make Boyers release Abby. Before Tim could get in a knockout punch, though, Boyers had scrambled out of reach, and was looking around for a getaway. There was nothing nearby. Not a crossroads, a staircase, an elevator, an escalator. Just the track that divided the platforms for passage in two different directions.

Tim was hot on his heels, angry at having been taken in by the man. Boyers scrambled…and dove onto the tracks dividing the platforms, over the shrieks of the crowd.

"No! Boyers, get out of there! There will be a train along any instant!" Tim called. As if summoned, the rumble of an approaching train was indeed heard.

_If he keeps his head, even if he doesn't get off the track bed in time, he can still stay out of the way of the train, since this is double track for trains for both directions,_ Tim thought. Boyers, however, stood frozen in dead center of the track bed, eyes on the headlight of the oncoming train.

Tim scrambled. _I can get him out. Just drop onto the tracks, push him against the far wall, and everyone's okay._ "Boyers! Don't move!!" he cried.

"_No_, McGee!!" "Not this time!"

The voices echoed in Tim's mind as he was dropped to the platform hard rubber surface, unwillingly. In surprise and frustration he cried out, his cry muffled by the train's horn sounding an alarm, a horrible thud…and a similar horn sounding on a train coming in right then from the other direction.

They let Tim up, Tony and Ziva. "I do not like close calls," Ziva said, sighing, "and that one was _very_ close."

"Nice try, Hero Boy," Tony said with a snarl that didn't match the worry in his eyes. "Didn't you stop to check to see if there was a train coming from the _other_ direction?! You'd never have made it."

The trains were both stopped. Metro security and the District cops flooded in. They knew that this time, something bad had really happened.

Gibbs came up and comforted Abby, who was shaking. "McGee—where's your cap?" he asked suddenly.

"Well, uh, boss…" Tim hedged, but he saw the rebuke in Gibbs' eyes fade out as growing realization set in. The truth would come out now. "Boyers is dead. The train, uh…"

"I arrived just in time to see DiNozzo and David tackle you. Why? Were you trying to rescue him?"

Tim couldn't explain it. How to say that everything had to come out all right so Abby could put this horrible affair behind her? And yet, Tim had failed. Boyers was dead, and Abby had witnessed his horrifying end. He looked away.

"McGee—_you_ were the jumper in the tunnel, weren't you?"

"Boss, I had to! Abby was terrified; she was walking along the tracks to hide from Boyers. I had to save her!"

Gibbs looked at Tony and Ziva, and untangled himself from Abby. "You two—take Abby back to NCIS. Take the truck. We'll meet you there later."

Tony spoke up quickly. "I saw the whole thing, boss. I came up in time to see it happen. McGee is a hero, boss. If he hadn't—"

"I didn't ask for your assessment, DiNozzo!" Gibbs snapped. "You have your orders. _GO!"_ They left.

Gibbs turned back to Tim. "That must have been a one-in-a-hundred chance. McGee, you could have been killed! By all rights, you _should_ have been!"

Tears stung Tim's eyes. "I couldn't stand by and do nothing, boss! Abby—"

"At the cost of your own life, Tim? Aren't you worth something, too??"

"I couldn't—"

"Don't tell me this comes from your training. I know damn well that agents are trained to assess situations and realize when the chances of success are too small. The Service doesn't need a bunch of one-shot, dead heroes. We want people who will be there, hopefully, for 20 years or so.

"And yet, on top of jumping in front of a train and miraculously saving Abby, you compound it by nearly jumping in front of another, to try to save Boyers. If Tony and Ziva hadn't been there…"

Gibbs covered his face with his hands for a moment.

Tim grew alarmed. "Boss, I'm sorry! Yes, I made a mistake about not looking for a train from the other direction. But if it hadn't been there, I could have—"

Gibbs felt a pang in his heart. Tim really didn't get it. "This is going on your record. McGee, when we get back, you're getting a full psych evaluation as quickly as I can arrange one. And you're confined to desk duty until the doctor clears you to return to the field."

"A psych—!"

"Your behavior today was exceedingly reckless. _Exceedingly_. You demonstrated no concern for your own well-being on not one, but two occasions. That's not normal."

"But—"

"You're a menace to the team in your current state. Get your head straight, McGee." Gibbs looked at Tim gruffly. Was the agent's behavior just driven by his devotion to Abby? Gibbs considered telling Tim flat out that Abby would probably never return his love, not to the extent Tim wanted her to. But he refrained. For all he knew, Abby might change her mind someday. And of his theory about Tim was right, Tim didn't need anything else at the moment to bring him down.

They made their statements to the detective on the scene, and left. It was a silent taxi ride back to the Yard.

- - - - -

"Welcome back, dear Abigail! So nice to see you safe and sound!" said Ducky, as Tony and Ziva dropped Abby in Autopsy and then discretely departed.

She hopped up on a table and sat, kicking her uncomfortable shoes off. "I'm safe, Ducky, but not sound," she said, with a sobbing laugh. "They thought I should come see you. I saw a man—well, sort of saw him—get killed. Hit by a train. It was horrible!"

"Yes, yes; Tony called me to say you were on your way here."

"I'm just—frightened. Sad. But he was a horrible man. Scared. Depressed. A hundred different emotions. My heart is racing."

"I can give you something to calm your nerves. You have Acute Stress Reaction, my dear. It will go away shortly. But let's talk a little more…"

- - - - -

Ziva took the call from the District police, since Gibbs wasn't back yet. "On Boyer's body," she told Tony, "they found a gun, a can of mace, handcuffs, and a map with directions to Abby's place."

"No innocent boy, he," Tony agreed, frowning.

- - - - -

The Director of NCIS can move mountains when he wants to, and Vance was not unsympathetic to Tim's plight. A psychiatrist, a Dr. Ogilvie, was waiting when Tim and Gibbs returned to the building. She did a debriefing with him and an initial intake work-up. She then scheduled appointments for him for each morning for the next five work days.

Tim left the office in which he'd met with her, feeling numb. What was she saying? More to the point, what was she implying? That he somehow wasn't whole? That was ridiculous. Why couldn't they understand? Why was it so wrong to give yourself to save someone else?

Tony and Ziva saw him return to his desk, but didn't speak. Tim was obviously tormented. "Hey; it's been a long day, but the day's over, Probie," said Tony with some cheer. "You Metro'd in, right? I can drive you home."

"And me, as well?" asked Ziva. "I, too, took the Metro. Perhaps you two would like to have dinner at my place?"

"Hey! Yeah. Anything's better than my own cooking," Tony grinned, and Tim nodded with a small smile. Even if the shrink thought he was crazy, at least he still had friends. And right now, being with friends seemed like a really good thing.

- - - - -

Vance spoke briefly to the psychiatrist after Tim's session. He was too principled to ask for details, but wanted an overall assessment.

"I need more time with him," Ogilvie said. "There are certainly underlying issues, whether or not he's aware of them."

"Is he suicidal?"

"That's…a possibility," she said, reluctantly. "At any rate, Agent Gibbs made the right call. Agent McGee is not fit for field work until this is further investigated."

- - - - -

That night, Abby sat at her desk at home, unable to sleep. She was a bit calmer now, but still, the day's adventure was still troubling. Thank heavens she had friends who cared about her and had come to her rescue when she had called them. Good, solid, stable friends.

- - - - -

Gibbs tossed in his sleep, and dreamed unpleasantly. In his dream, he saw, from a short distance, the two trains entering the station. He heard the thud, and he woke up, screaming, "NO! TIM!!" And then he'd realize, shaking and crying, that it hadn't been Tim who was killed there. Not his brave, foolish, idealistic hero. It was Boyers.

Abby had been the one who was pursued…but it was Tim who had come away, wounded. And so amazingly lucky to be alive.

So far he'd had this dream three times tonight. Tomorrow he would ask for a session with the psychiatrist himself.

- END -


End file.
